The synchronicities in life will always bring me joy. They remind me that the universe is on our side.
For the past month, ever since writing my last entry, I’ve been self-medicating. That usually looks like a dose of burying my head into projects and work where I can use my powers that be to help other people in order to detach from thinking about myself.
I allowed almost every moment of my break to be littered with storyboarding for Still Preventable, as well as researching and writing a piece of work I’d never imaged myself writing — a PhD proposal. The academic jargon is nauseatingly pretentious (where I spent most of one day googling “what does _____ mean?”), the competition is fierce, but all I truly want to do it make a difference (so just give me the scholarship already!).
An entire month of material focus. It’s a blur, honestly. But, it allowed me to space out from all the things that were prioritizing themselves, ideas and people that didn’t deserve the spotlight. And though I can’t say storyboarding didn’t come with its déjà vu moments of reflective grief (sifting through archival footage, as well as partner interviews, is a visceral, unraveling experience), nonetheless it pivoted this sensitive soul’s trajectory once again.
During this self-soothing, I continued my exploration into running. Coming from someone who desperately tried to get into running time and time again, barely jogging a mile before throwing in the towel, I began lacing up in order to maintain that dose of distance — to run fast and far enough from everything that was causing my heart to bleed. Before I knew it, nature’s healing aura tethered itself to my sneakers. I’ve been running longer and further than I ever thought I could. Being outdoors has become a medicinal prescription, even with the blistering cold some mornings. I even sacrifice my dignity and run with my funky, clear glasses so my eyes aren’t constantly confronted with the cold.
These runs now offer clarity and assurance instead of obstinate distraction.
In the same vein, I’ve also rediscovered the beauty of gazing. As a creative, we are meant to create. Write, produce, give, give, give. Yet, you can’t pour from an empty cup. So, I find myself wandering around art galleries, castles, the shoreline, syphoning inspiration. I literally stood and stared into two different paintings a few days ago, one completely encapsulating what I was trying to put into words for my PhD (can illness and wellness live harmoniously in the same body?), and the second of white sheets, slightly misshapen on a bed, vividly drawing me back into a memory I never wish to forget.
It all comes back to love. The love we give and the love we receive. The love we allow. The love that we need. The love that endures.
Rewind to Tuesday, my first tutorial since being on break. My supervisor wished to hear my ideas surrounding my dissertation film, reluctantly a project that I have become the subject around. We spoke about my vision, as well as who I continually speak of needing to be, but she surprised me by saying,
“you’ve got your two hats covered, you as director and you as subject, but what about the third persona — you as the human being? Who is there for you during all of this? I’m genuinely asking.”
I rambled off a few friends I’ve made here, some people back at home, but that didn’t satisfy her.
“That’s not really what I’m speaking on. What is it that you need as a human being to feel nurtured during this? What would you tell someone who knew someone going through what you go through? What advice would you give them in terms of what that other person may need.”
Thankfully our cameras were off due to internet issues, and we weren’t in person due to her being ill, because I immediately got emotional.
“To be patient,” I mustered. “To just sit with them. To not try to fix them or say the right words, because there are no right words, but to just sit in the silence so they know they aren’t alone.”
There was a short pause.
“Interesting,” she breathed. “You need the consoling quality of someone who can witness you and not leave. Who is patient, and reliable, and will not abandon you. Do you have that for yourself? It doesn’t have to be a person, per say, but is that person even just you?”
When I say it took everything in me not to start crying, I mean my muscles clenched in my seat, squeezing my lungs, tears involuntarily forming in my eyes.
Witness you and not leave. What a gift that would be.
Now, fast forward to last night. In silly fashion, I am looking up more off-beat holidays to spread a little joy, and I learn it’s Winnie the Pooh day today. What fun! I immediately search for cute pictures and quotes, even an amusing, wee crossword puzzle (you can find it linked below… you’re welcome).
But in this rabbit hole, I found a passage between Pooh and Piglet.
I will never, ever forget the few Piglets in my life. The ones who witnessed and stayed. The ones who sat with me and yolked my pain onto their shoulders so that I didn’t have to carry it all alone.
We all deserve that, in friendships and in our partners. To be loved and seen and witnessed in all forms. Because we never know when it will be our turn — to be the yolk or to be the one who has everything fall to ruin.
That’s important to remember. You just never know. So don’t forget to flex kindness on a daily basis, even if just towards your own heart. Be reliable for yourself. Be the one you can count on.
As for now, I surrender to the reflection and introspection this second term will bring. To be gazed upon. To be uncovered. There is no hiding from the lens.
Big, sexy, messy, tender love to you all xx and… this wee word search.
Winnie the Pooh Word Search
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